


Sunset

by doctormissy



Series: What if...? [3]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: A little crack, Alien Planet, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Food, Post-Episode: s10e12 The Doctor Falls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 11:20:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11485314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctormissy/pseuds/doctormissy
Summary: It was a huge celebration of the President’s 200th birthday on Clodana, a planet acclaimed for its long-standing food festivals. There were over two thousand stands stretching across miles of land, meals from almost every planet in the universe were served for a period of 30 days, and millions of visitors arrived in the city to experience the diverse tastes. The Doctor and Missy could not give it a miss.





	Sunset

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 1 AM because of the conversation I had with [timclady](http://timclady.tumblr.com) (fallensherlock), and I regret nothing.

The Doctor grabbed a piece of an unidentifiable purple fruit from the stand and smiled at the street trader. The squishy blob smelled like spoiled cheese and made Missy sick. He took a large bite of it.

‘Mmh. This is good,’ he said with his mouth full the pulp. He chewed loudly. He pushed it in front of her face. ‘Do you want some?’

‘Doctor, this is utterly disgusting,’ Missy replied drily, wrinkling her nose. ‘And please, stop eating loudly.’ She gracefully removed his hand with the fruit from her personal space and walked ahead.

The Doctor discarded the fruit and caught up with her quickly. She was eyeing a selection of meats from almost every part of the known universe and dishes made of those with pretended unconcern. It at least smelled nice, for a change.

The Doctor thought so too, so obviously he had to try half of the soups and stews. Missy only had a flavour of two meaty meals. She intended to keep her figure, thank you very much.

He tasted the fifth kind of goulash. This one intrigued him more than the others. ‘Is this Ramatorrian? I think I can recognise the spices.’

The yellow-skinned woman behind the stall bowed her feelers, and they sniffed at the dish the Doctor pointed a finger at with them and replied, ‘Yes, sir, it’s King Rhoan’s special recipe. He made it himself, for this occasion only.’

It was a huge celebration of the President’s 200th birthday on Clodana, a planet acclaimed for its long-standing food festivals. There were over two thousand stands stretching across miles of land, meals from almost every planet in the universe were served for a period of 30 days, and millions of visitors arrived in the city to experience the diverse tastes. Only this time, it was twice as larger and lasted twice as long. The Doctor and Missy could not give it a miss.

If only the Doctor had not decided to try _everything_ they offered there at all costs. He acted immaturely and inappropriately sometimes, enough to make her feel a bit ashamed of him. He was raving about a pie for _two hours_ not so long ago.

‘Give me two bowls of it to go, will you?’ he said to the vendor and handed her a coin. They left the stand with yet another bag hanging on the Doctor’s arm. His pockets were full already.

As soon as they approached another stand, he noticed someone slicing a giant cherry-like fruit and ran there excitedly. This place overflowed with unknown cultures, and he has always loved discovering new things as much as he hated not knowing of them. Even a child at the Academy, he was fascinated with the worlds beyond Gallifrey and Kasterborous.

That was a part of why she had had a crush on him back then.

It was rather endearing; Missy had to admit that. He was happy as he wasn’t for a very long time, the pain of all he has lost forgotten and all his heavy burdens lifted. She could feel the radiance around him penetrating her mind and filling her with positivity.

There were suddenly too many people at the cherry stand. No wonder: it was from Zairon, a war zone, as the Doctor found out. It was very rare to see such contribution. Missy was getting uncomfortable.

‘Doctor, leave it; you won’t get a piece anyway,’ she told him, emitting waves of anxiety.

‘But that is a Zaironian cherry,’ he objected. Missy was left with no other choice than grasping the Doctor’s hand and pulling him away from there.

When they were far enough, she did not let go of the hand. The connection between them was stronger, then.

After Zaironian cherries, they came to a stand that read SOL III on the sign. Earth. There were examples of foods from all parts of the planet, all familiar to the Doctor and some to her.

‘They have fish and chips!’ he exclaimed. He was even more excited about his favourite British cuisine than all the foreign specialities. Missy rolled her eyes at him but followed his steps and even stole a chip later.

‘I am surprised you still haven’t popped by now,’ she laughed. For some strange reason, she stabbed his stomach with a finger in a playful manner. Maybe it was the wine she has had.

The Doctor chuckled, but his face turned serious quickly. She could sense slight fear and uncertainty.

‘I almost died, Missy. Back on the ship. This body is still weak and needs energy, or it might collapse,’ he confessed. He looked her in the eye. ‘I don’t want to change again. I can’t, Missy. I am doing what I can to stop it, and this,’ he pointed at the stands and cheerful people around them, ‘is me pretending it’s okay.’

The Doctor faced the ground. He has been scared to say that aloud, and now the truth was spoken. Missy put her other hand on his, attempting to comfort him. There was sympathy.

‘Doctor, I,’ she faltered, ‘I’m sorry. ...Let’s just get as much food as we can and watch the sunset.’

‘Yes, that sounds perfect,’ he said quietly. ‘Thank you.’

They slowly moved ahead with the stream of people flowing to the Cathedral. It stood atop a hill, and the view of the setting sun was truly spectacular from there. On the way, they passed a large stand with hundreds of kind of ice cream, all odd flavours. The Doctor naturally had to have some. Missy refused to try egg ice cream or a Lon’an lettuce one.

Though, the creamy pink ice looked rather appealing, sitting in the wafer cornet and melting onto his hand in the red blaze of the sun. Still holding the Doctor’s hand, Missy leant into him and rested her head on his shoulder. When he didn’t look (or so she thought), she had a lick. It wasn’t that bad at all.

All of this wasn’t that bad at all, travelling with the Doctor in his TARDIS and discovering and saving planets instead of destroying them. It was beautiful. She believed she could handle this life. She believed she could be good, for him.

The Doctor turned his head at her and smiled. He wrapped one arm around her body. Missy returned the smile and allowed herself to relax.


End file.
